"When you are pulling against the restraints… when your back is arched and your hips are writhing… when your mouth is open in a silent scream of tortured rapture… you will know that my work has begun".
Masturbate while you are being instructed, having your pleasure taken control of by someone who is watching you squirm with need.
Try and follow the actions, it does not matter if you edge early and often, simply do not orgasm until the very end… until you are given permission. If you climax too soon, stop all stimulation, feeling that cruel, frustrating sensation of being deprived a full orgasm… then try and do better on the next attempt.
‘Good girl’… the words you crave, those two words together that sets your body alight, that sends a shiver down your gorgeously curved spine, tingling in pleasure.
‘Again’… that word which feels so loaded with cruelty, with torture, with utterly tormenting ecstasy.
Your fingers feel so trapped under the delicate confines of your panties; the anticipation seems to smother you. Will you finally get the orgasm you crave or will you have to hold it back once more?
‘Hold it’… the two words that throw you into a new world of agonising bliss, making every muscle clench as you fight to keep that tidal wave of an orgasm bottled up inside you, waiting for how it will flood from you at any moment.
‘Come’… as it erupts from you, consuming you, constricting your body like a rope made of pure pleasure, ever tightening, you lose every other thought. After those first crashing waves, you know that no matter how intense the sensations, how much your body quivers, it will not be the only time you hear that one word.
Writhe, struggle, tense every muscle, it all makes no difference, I will still show no mercy. How does it feel knowing that I can feel every sensation that you experience? How does it feel knowing that I am in control of every touch?
You feel like a puppet on strings as I once again control your fingers to work faster, feeling your body draw to the very edge of an orgasm, before I make those fingers slow down, keeping you constantly held on the brink, riding it out repeatedly and so cruelly.
In your mind you continue to beg me over and over, pleading with me to stop torturing you with denial, yet still I simply reply with erotic whispers trailing through your consciousness. I once again tell you that I had always wanted to experience the intensity of the sensations a girl must feel when she gets close; now that I have taken control of your body for the night, to share it and feel your pleasure, I will make the most of it, I will push you beyond anything any human has ever experienced before. You aren’t the first girl I have taken control of and teased for the night, for her to wake up and think it was a dream, though you will certainly suffer so much more than any of the others have.
My last whispers in your mind make you wish you could wake up…
“If this is what it feels like to keep this body on the edge of orgasm for two hours, I look forward to feeling what it is like after ten more of them”.
Dominating you with words alone – a phone call that makes hours feel like minutes.
The familiarity of your own touch with the commanding presence of another person sets you on fire. You slide your fingertips along your body imagining they were his, listening to every word, every order, as if he were in the room with you. With that presence you will push yourself more than you ever could alone. You masturbate to his voice, stopping and starting whenever told, wanting him to hear the longing, the need and the desperation in your voice, wanting to turn him on just as much with every moan and whimper, waiting for him to say the word… ‘Come!’
She had been told to masturbate to the edge in front of her lover’s gaze every night, holding herself back and showing how much she could control it; now she was paying for the mistake of giving in to her urge to keep going. She was not stopped, instead those hungry eyes fed on seeing her yield to desperation, already knowing how to punish her properly.
There was a sadistic glee in seeing her tortured with unyielding pleasure, a pleasure so intense it verged on pain. How those hips had rocked and swayed in pleasure when she came the other night, now she was being made to suffer, held immobile, desperate to thrust her hips and pull her body in all directions, yet unable to move an inch away from the buzzing torture device she once thought of as merely a toy.
“That’s it… you wanted to come didn’t you? Now you can have all the orgasms you want sweetie, plus you don’t have to worry about that powerful vibrator moving away from your pussy. It’s a good job I put the ball gag in, I’ve never heard you scream like that! Good girl, I think I’ll just sit here and watch you suffer from orgasm after orgasm…such a wonderful sight.”
If only she could do something to stop it, to even be able to speak and beg for its mercy. The demon however would not even give the mercy of letting her scream out from the sensations tearing throughout her body.
The tape still covered her, the necessary markings to summon the demon. How foolish she had been. The spell-book had stated that it would grant her a single wish, yet occasionally the being repeated the same message it had used to greet her once she had summoned it.
“Pitiful human female, long has passed since I have bestowed gifts of power and wealth to your kind. You dare bring me back with such demands. Let this punishment be a reminder that I am not your lackey.”
Nothing other than this was conveyed. Unable to speak, the only sound in the room, when the message was not being relayed to her, was the slick sound of her fingers constantly stroking her overly sensitive pussy. The demon’s victim had no control of her movements, all she could do was think of how desperately she needed it to stop. For what felt like hours, she was forced to masturbate relentlessly. Each orgasm thrust upon her swollen red sex after the first few would have brought her to her knees, made her curl into a ball and try to recover: yet it kept her standing.
The demon could have done anything to her, could have terribly contorted her body or made her act out any number of horrors. Though it delighted in this instead, being able to relish in her sexual torment, able to feel the physical anguish brought about by an act that would normally comfort her. While she could not scream out, it could feel and almost hear the screams emanating from this human girl’s clitoris every time she was forced to orgasm, the swift strokes honing in on that spot and never ceasing.
The first few times left her breathless, having never played with herself beyond the point of coming once; it was a pleasure she could not have ever experienced under her own administrations. The rest of the night however was spent exhaling through gritted teeth, internally praying that she may be spared from more ceaseless torture. By now she had expected to have become numb from the over-stimulation, yet the demon must have been stopping her body from protecting itself in such a way. Her assumption was correct.
The relentless attention to that delicate little nub was unbearable. Every muscle strained in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught to her clitoris, hoping to surface from the sea of agonising pleasure she was drowning under. It felt so horrifyingly cruel, to take such a sweet sensation and use it against her in this way. If she could speak, she’d have pleaded with the demon to take her if it wished, to penetrate her and use her for it’s own physical pleasure if it so desired; anything to just stop herself from coming for just a moment. It would have been a little easier if this wicked entity was the one who was touching her this way; knowing that her own fingertips were the ones tormenting her pussy made it so much worse, so much harder to comprehend.
Finally, once she was sure that she’d perish if she were to orgasm much more, certain her heart would give out, it all stopped. She gulped for air, every orgasm had caused for her to struggle for breath, and not being able to scream or moan out made it seem so much harder to inhale or exhale. Suddenly, the demon spoke once more, but this time was different.
“Your punishment is not over. You wished to take from me a gift, yet instead I shall take from you. Your orgasm, humankind’s moment of utmost rapture; this belongs to me now. Only on this date each year may you ask for it back for one night, but to do that you must summon me, and again I shall have my way with you the same. Farewell… for now.”
The feeling of the silk against your wrists sends a surge of warmth along every inch of your skin; the creamy, weightless softness letting you know that nothing you feel after this moment will be in your own hands. The eroticism of such a thought drifts directly between your thighs – you tremble in anticipation.
You are told not to speak, told simply to lose yourself in the experience. The blindfold further locks you inside yourself, keeping you fantasising about the sensations, amplifying every light touch on your skin. The delicate contact across your cleavage and across your nipples makes your skin tingle.
That wonderful anticipation. Feeling the pent up desire emanating throughout every inch, your fingertips outlining what will soon be pulsing within you. How you enjoy the tightness of those balls, wanting to feel how they’ll press against you when that length is fully inside. So close. So very, very close.
She had no idea where she was going, yet she could not help but smile in anticipation.
Once the blindfold was off, she instinctively tried to cover herself up. The moment he whispered, “they are here to enjoy you just as much as I will,” she let out a sigh of longing and began to touch herself, giving into her desire to be seen, to be lusted after.